


Sanctum

by iseoks



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Credence is super sensitive, Emotional Porn, Established Relationship, Fingering, Long-Haired Credence, M/M, Mirror Sex, Newt is super gentle and loving and just a perfect boyfriend tbh, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Wall Sex, just enjoy 4k words of soft porn because why the hell not, oh also Credence can sing a little lol because reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iseoks/pseuds/iseoks
Summary: Credence is very, very beautiful. Newt just wants him to know.





	Sanctum

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even gonna lie, this is the product of three days of writer's block and struggling and me just constantly drowning in Crewt feels, so. Yeah. 
> 
>  
> 
> Set in a sort of alternate ending where Newt takes Credence back to London with him, pretty much takes him under his wing and they end up falling madly in love. Oops. Also if you want to visualize Credence's hair, it's something like [this](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CyKLlBMUQAEjwTR.jpg)!

Newt climbs carefully out of the briefcase, mindful to lock it tightly behind him prior to propping it up laterally against the nightstand. He and Credence’s bedroom is empty, which leaves the older man bemused for the better half of a moment, before he hears the shower running in the bathroom. Their newly shared bed is neatly made, and the bedroom itself has clearly been tidied up since Newt had slipped inside the case to tend to his beasts for what was supposed to be no more than half an hour, as he intended to crawl back into bed with Credence and catch a few extra hours of sleep. As the proverb goes, time flies when one is having fun - and he’d ended up accidentally spending the entire morning with the magical creatures.

Usually Credence joins him; the boy is as bright as the evening star and has come to adore each and every one of Newt’s beasts, even to the point of knowing all of their names and personalities. However, the pair had too long a night brushing up on Credence’s magic, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb his lover from resting after such hard work, which lead the magizoologist to begin the day without him.

Removing his shoes and overcoat, Newt distracts himself with his suspenders before he hears the shower stop. Raising his head, he listens to gentle feet padding around the bathroom, as well as soft, _lovely_ humming, and he can’t hope to stop even the smallest of smiles that twists his lips. Standing from the bed, he’s sedulous in making sure his steps are quiet enough so that Credence won’t hear him. Fingers curling around the golden knob, he draws the door ajar enough so that his eyes can peek through, and surely enough, he spots the Obscurial with his back to the door, perched on the edge of the tub and facing the wall. He appears to be glazing his arms with some kind of skincare potion he almost certainly received from Queenie, and his typically chin-length hair brushes down to his nape in its wet state. Though his naked form is pointed away from Newt, the older man feels blessed to watch a single droplet of water form a rivulet down the curve of Credence’s back, before it disappears at the cleft of his arse.

He knows that he shouldn’t be standing here, watching and not saying anything - they should be talking about his day, discussing how _phenomenally_ Credence had done last night, and how brilliant he is to be able to make such promising progress in so little time. But no, Newton Scamander only stands at the door, tongue pressed to his upper lip, body frozen in total _awe_ of this beautiful young man sitting in his bathroom. Scars and all.

Setting the potion bottle aside, a soft sigh billows sweetly from Credence’s lungs as he twists his torso to retrieve his towel, mind set on drying his hair as much as possible. His eyes catch onto a figure in the doorway, and the young wizard nearly jumps out of his skin before he recognizes those soft laurel green eyes, and the soft constellation of freckles beneath them. Exhaling his relief, Credence’s head tilts in his bewilderment, dark lashes blinking all the same. “Newt? What are you doing?”

The addressed is absolutely delighted that Credence seems to have permanently abandoned the ‘Mr. Scamander’ title, and even more delighted at the shy way the boy brings up the towel to cover his lap. It’s adorable, considering all the things they’ve done already in their explorations of each other’s bodies. “Nothing,” Newt finally answers, brows raised slightly as he opens the door fully and steps just beyond the threshold of the room, “I’ve just returned from looking after my beasts, and, I heard you singing in here.”

“Oh,” Credence answers, face dyed a light and embarrassed pink, “I hadn’t heard you come in.”

“You sound lovely,” Newt tells him, coming closer. Credence’s breaths become heavier with each step, his plush lips slightly parted and eyelids slightly lowered by the time his partner is standing behind him. As the young man tilts his head back, Newt runs his long and elegant fingers through the still-damp hair. “And you look lovely,” he continues, “feel lovely, smell lovely …”

“Newt …” Credence’s whisper is little more than a breath of air ushering his tiny voice. He leans into his lover’s touch; he lets it carry him away from his worries and doubts. People speak so seriously of escapism, and Credence’s reverie comes when this man; this caring, loving, sweet and unbelievably sincere man, touches him. And oftentimes, it isn’t reserved for just touching - oftentimes, he can just look into Newt’s eyes and feel safe.

The towel is long forgotten; Credence’s fingers have loosened around the fluffy and dense cotton and as a result, it’s fallen to the empty tub’s base. His head’s tipped back, pale throat exposed and elongated to guide his weighted and uneven breaths past his heaving chest. Newt is taken by such a raw and unique beauty - he’d known Credence was simply gorgeous from the minute he first saw him, whether or not he paid much attention to it at the time - he was still stunning, even with the less than flattering haircut that wicked woman had given him. But now, seeing him this way, a way that _only he_ gets to see him, the younger wizard’s splendor commands every whit of Newt’s attention. His fingers brush over Credence’s parted lips, and the boy’s tongue darts out to greet the older man’s thumb.

Pressing back, Credence can feel it against his shoulder. Newt is hard.

A hot breath puffs past his lips, and the boy shifts on the tub’s edge, lifting his leg at the knee and bending it to support his weight, all while twisting his body to face Newt. He feels the man’s thumb brush against his cheekbone, stroking soft flesh with a thorough and loving intent. Chasing the warmth of that sweet touch, Credence’s head tilts toward it, his hands grasping at Newt’s thighs to sturdy himself.

“You’re so beautiful, Credence,” Newt tells him, brushing stray threads of ebony away from that pretty face. He knows the younger man doesn't believe him, but still the Obscurial’s face warms up at the compliment, and his hands shyly make a trail up to the fly of his lover’s trousers.

The zipper comes down, and the buttons pop open at an underwhelming speed - but the exhilaration that comes with touching and being touched by someone he loves with such an immense force is enough to maintain the atmospheric excitement. Newt sighs appreciatively when his straining cock is freed from the confines of his straight-legged trousers, and he watches the dark-haired wizard stare intently at it for a few beats, like he hadn't seen it numerous times by now. The way Credence seems so endlessly reverent of him makes Newt feel a great sense of eminence.

Finally, Credence’s lips open and Newt misses the visual of his cock sliding between those deliciously plump lips. He feels it, however, and that's why he closes his eyes - the warm, wet heat shocks his body in a way that orders his eyes to shut so that he can appreciate the feeling in earnest. Newt’s mouth opens in a choked sigh, the side of his fist pressing against the wall to keep him upright as Credence swallows him down, a tiny moan rumbling deep in the younger man’s throat.

“Oh, Credence,” Newt groans as he’s pleasured, “ _Yes,_ you’re so good.”

The bit of praise electrifies the raven-tressed of the two, and he sucks hard around the velvety flesh in his mouth, brushing his tongue along the shaft in long, eager strokes. He pushes all the way to the back of his throat, steadying his breaths, respirating through his nose, unable to keep himself from moaning loud in his occupied mouth.

Newt sighs at the vibration around his cock, now pressed deep into his lover’s tight throat, and licks his lips as his free hand brushes Credence’s hair from his face once more. Credence looks up at him, pulling off only for a moment to trace his tongue languidly along the shaft, all the way up to the head. Not only does Newt moan at the feeling of being so eagerly tasted, but his eyes - for as long as they’ll stay open - are focused on Credence’s wet, open lips and his flicking tongue, a vision he can already see himself wanking off too when the two of them are long-term apart on some unfortunate and, hopefully, distant future occasion.

Again, without warning, Credence swallows him down to the back of his throat and sucks needily, continuing to moan around him like he was starving for him - like he’s just the most delectable thing in the world. Ironically enough, Newt is sure that title is earned by Credence himself.

“Credence,” Newt warns him, and the younger man’s eyes flutter open, but his head is still bobbing up and down and back and forth. “Don’t be so cruel. Let me have my way with you, Love.”

The boy’s actions slow, as if he's actually stopped to think about it, before he finally pulls off with a distinct ‘pop’ and nuzzles at Newt’s pelvis. Short, quick breaths spill past his open lips, and Newt can feel the puffs of air against his partially-clothed navel. Credence’s hand steadies at his boyfriend’s hip, lifting his face so that his shining dark eyes captivate Newt’s lighter ones; and the man can see now his lover’s face is stained a pale red, lips faintly swollen and glimmering with saliva and precum.

Intimate eye contact is held in seconds of silence, before Newt drops to his knees in front of Credence, who’s still sitting on the wide lip of the tub. Before the younger wizard can even manage a surprised gasp, his lover dives in for a fervent kiss - Credence’s soft and supple lips parting near instantaneously for the older man’s tongue, as naturally as his lungs expand for air. The boy mewls as his mouth is claimed, tongue nearly intertwining with Newt’s as they twist and caress around one another. Though impassioned and desperate, the kiss somehow retains a gentle element; perhaps in the way Newt’s fingers touch delicately along Credence’s jaw, and trail tenderly down his chest and abdomen. The boy moans high in his throat at being touched like treasure, still unused to Newt’s meaningful gestures as all his life, he’s been handled like his worth amounted to naught. And though it’s been months of the two of them; nearer to a year, in fact, Credence certainly should expect it by now. Yet he refuses to take something he’s spent his entire life dreaming about for granted.

Newt is endlessly delighted at Credence’s softness - how despite a lifetime of abuse, he’s managed to stay so lovely and sweet and benevolent. He can’t imagine what heaven is like, if it’s supposed to be better than this - his lips are smooth and succulent, so much, in fact, that he hardly realizes he can taste himself on the other mage’s tongue. Even if just a bit, any taste he gets of this magnificent young man, he savours.

Pulling briefly away, oh so reluctantly parting his lips from Credence’s, his voice is heavy in a murmur. “Undress me,” he adjures, looking into the other man’s dazed and partially-lidded eyes. Timidly, the dark-haired wizard pulls at Newt’s clothes, tugging the buttons loose on his button-down and unclipping his suspenders from his belt. Newt lowers his own hands to remove the belt, knowing that Credence isn’t sound enough to handle that part yet, and his trousers are made quick work of as they are already undone.

The younger mage licks his lips as his hands caress along Newt’s flat stomach, peeling away the thin sleeveless shirt he wore beneath his button-down - coming to focus on the high-waisted briefs serving as the last article keeping him from completing his task. The buttons come easily loose, allowing the fabric to cascade down his lover’s long legs, and Credence is left facing his now-naked boyfriend, the both of them now completely bare to one another. Credence feels guilty, the way his eyes so hungrily rake down the flawless form of his sweet lover, and Newt can tell, just by looking in his eyes. Kneeling down to his level once more, he speaks to the younger man with a gentle voice, saying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for looking at me, Credence. Look at me all you want. I’m yours.”

The brushstroke of red apparent across Credence’s cheeks deepens in hue, and Newt smiles at him. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, the dark-haired wizard leans forward to wrap his arms around his partner’s shoulders. Just as speedlessly, his eyes do come to lid and Newt is the one who closes the space between them, though this kiss is nearly all-tongue. The former Salemer can hardly contain the slew of throaty sounds the other man draws out of him, to Newt’s delight, of course. The haze intensifies, and Credence can’t remember exactly when his back met the lush rug at the fore of the bathtub, but no single complaint comes to mind about it. Perhaps this is in part due to the fact his mind can’t seem to focus on anything besides Newt.

A sudden gasp cuts Credence’s breath, prompted by the feel of a finger circling around his entrance. His breath descends to a quiet moan, the tension his body had adopted with his surprise melting into the ease of open legs and arms caressing down the arch of his partner’s back. Newt leans over him, breaking the kiss to trail lips along Credence’s sharp and defined jaw, all the way down his throat. The finger hovering at his entrance hasn’t left, but when it presses against the tight pucker of flesh once more, it’s well-lubricated. Credence isn’t sure what to think of his boyfriend becoming so adept at lubrication charms that he doesn’t even have to speak them anymore, but he also doesn’t have a lot of time to think about it before the stretch of a long finger causes his thoughts to evaporate.

The younger man moans unrestrained, clutch at Newt’s back tighter and his head falling backward once more to display the full expanse of his neck; offering it to his sweet lover who ravishes him. He can feel where the marks are left at his pale and easily-blemished skin, much like the fresh snow reveals even the lightest of footprints. The finger inside of him presses in and out, curling deep and coaxing the furl to loosen up. A single finger becomes two, then eventually three, and by then Credence is nearly drooling, pale body flushed and practically begging to be entered. His moans had formerly carried a string of words broken and torn asunder, but now only incoherent and breath-laden cries can be heard throughout the bathroom, which by now is free of steam.

“Please,” Credence manages to say, his typically low and sweet voice high and disjointed, “take me to the bedroom. I’m ready.”

A pleased and adoring smile bows the bronze-haired wizard’s lips, and just as he’s about to scoop Credence up into his arms and deliver him to the requested destination, his head lifts and he catches part of his reflection in the large mirror bolted to the opposite wall, by the doorway. Staring into his own grayish-green eyes, he gets an idea. “Credence,” he murmurs, fingers still pressing into and scissoring the now flushed and saturated entrance - and still pulling mewls from the flustered boy, whose hair is splayed out in a dark fan beneath his head, “I have a better idea.”

Prior to the thought of asking ‘what?’ materializes in his pleasure-fogged mind, Credence finds himself being pressed against the cold and reflective surface of a mirror. His eyes open, fingers spreading across the flat plane as he sees himself - soaked in a thin sheen of both sweat and water from his shower, skin blotched in an uneven red flush, and lips bruised from Newt’s kisses, as well as his own biting. He sees patches of deep red and pink where Newt had left love bites, and his hair left in utter disarray atop his head; its natural wave a patternless mess where it sticks to his face at some points. Shoulders raising and falling with labored breath, he eyes Newt’s reflection questioningly, though he can’t help but be smitten with the older man’s lovely features, even if his state is similar to Credence’s own. Nothing ever looked bad on Newt.

“Wh-Why?” Is all Credence manages to wonder aloud, though he groans hotly as he can feel the other man’s body press to his backside, and every point of contact - lips to neck, chest to shoulder blades, pelvis to rear-end, especially - intensifies his desire to be fucked to the point where he just doesn’t care how.

“Look at yourself, Credence,” Newt replies, pressing his cock against the boy’s waiting entrance, but not yet pushing inside, “you’re so gorgeous. You’re a bloody masterpiece, Love, look at you.”

“I-” Credence bites back a moan to the best of his ability, pushing back needily as his head falls between his shoulders, refusing to look. “Newt, I’m not-”

“You are,” he begs to differ, pressing amorous kisses along the Obscurial’s nape and shoulders, “Look at yourself, for me. Watch how flawlessly you look, even as you take me.”

Whining pitifully, the younger man wills himself to obey, meeting his own eyes in the mirror, lips a few centimeters away from kissing himself. Hands braced against the glass surface, he cries in thanksgiving when he feels his lover’s very tip breach his entrance. Habitually, his head tips slightly back, but he’s conscious to obey what had been asked of him. He can see even more of the marks that had been left along his neck, and feel where they tingle just at the memory from a few minutes ago, now. A string of rich moans is pulled right from his throat, the raven’s bruised lips parted wide and amplifying his every sound as newt pushes deeper and deeper into him, until he’s fully seated.

Credence’s breaths stutter and he whines needily, pushing back as if the other could go any deeper. Newt chuckles breathlessly, chin rested in Credence’s hair as he takes a tight, almost bruising hold on the boy’s hips. As surprised as he’d been to initially discover it, he’s well educated by now that Credence likes a bit of tasteful roughness, though initially Newt had refused to be anything but gentle with him. As long as it’s been, they grow more and more accustomed to each other’s desires, and it’s like second-nature.

Newt sits still for quite some time, marvelling in the pale boy’s clenching tightness, pulling him in like it never intends to let him go. Credence’s body, no matter how often they indulge in one another, always fosters an insatiable hunger for Newt - and the older man is always more than happy to oblige him. Once he’s revelled in the tight heat enough, he starts to pull back, almost entirely, before pressing in again.

Credence almost chokes on his own moan, eyes struggling to stay open as he loses himself to the pleasure. His voice shakes as Newt’s hands caress along his sides, though always seeming to anchor at his hips to thrust in and out of him, building a steady and delicious rhythm that leaves the dark mage seeing stars against the slivers of his vision allowed by his almost-lidded eyes. He watches himself as best he can, taking in the way he looks - subconsciously wondering what Newt finds so endearing about this display. But as his eyes dart up for just a moment, he can see the way the other male’s eyes are looking at him; like he’s the endless ocean they’d spent hours looking at on the ship-ride to London, or the star-studded sky they’d shared their first kiss under. It comes to him, then, that Newt may not have been paying that much attention to those things at all - but he was looking at Credence. An intense warmth fills him as his breath starts to fog up the glass, though he can still see his own eyes clearly, despite how he must peer through his lashes.

“Newt - ah … hnn …” Credence whimpers, almost scrabbling at the glass as he attempts to hold on for as long as he can, never wanting this moment to end.

Newt thrusts into him harder and faster, grunting some - Credence can hear him by his ear, the raspy sounds of pleasure and tight, nasally sighs of the same nature. Newt had never been as vocal as Credence but his pleasure tends to show more across his face, and through his body language - which now, expresses that he’s close to shooting his load. The muscles in his arms, legs, and chest are tight, his eyes are intense and focused on Credence, and his bronzy hair falls into his face where it’s left long.

Credence bites his own lip, the tier reddening against the harsh contact as a high-pitched and shrill moan pierces the base of his throat, signalling to Newt that he, too, is about to finish. Credence’s sounds always become higher when he’s close.

The elder wizard’s momentum has lost pattern, but not power - in fact, Credence’s lithe body presses repeatedly into the mirrored wall with each incoming thrust. He sobs with pleasure at every one, literal tears in his eyes, blotting his vision, though he can see the one that forms a rivulet down his right cheek. Newt kisses up the wet line, and Credence hums with a treble, pursed lips quivering as he can hear the sounds of Newt’s hot and wet flesh meeting his with every slam. It seems the steam in the room has returned somehow, and Newt’s hips stutter a little, warning Credence that his control is leaving him.

The signal sets him off, as does one particularly powerful thrust, and the dark-haired boy shouts his lover’s name as his orgasm takes him in a chokehold. Newt’s hand is around Credence’s cock in seconds, milking him carefully, unconcerned with how his lover’s essence coats his hand, and the sweet boy’s tight stomach. Credence watches his own face as he comes for what seems like an eternity, his open and wet lips, his breath against the glass in a misty ellipse, and his eyes near to slits, desperately trying to roll back in his head, though he barely manages to focus on himself. Then, he watches at Newt follows him - and he’s seen that face so many times; the furrowed brows, tight lips with the very tip of his tongue barely pressed against the upper one. He’s seen the shoulders conducting an orgasmic tremor and heard that breathless whisper of his name so many times, and still, it sends him into euphoria - especially as his body is filled with the essence of such a beautiful man. It’s hot, thick, and heavy, and some of it spills out past his cheeks and down the backs of his thighs.

They’re still for a few heartbeats, heavy breaths the only sound in the room. Credence’s hand and nail prints are all over the mirror - one part of the glass is even _scratched_ , and droplets of his cum have somehow sprayed onto the wallpaper. The high lasts long enough for him not to worry about it, and the wall is the only thing keeping him upright, for his legs are wobbly and about as stable as a broken column.

His mental capacity gradually returns to him, though he’s almost purring as Newt’s arms wrap around his waist, turning him so that they may face one another. Credence’s eyes close, and he looks like an angel - wet, dark lashes pressed to his cheeks and his glowing face full of utter bliss. Newt loves that expression. He loves this boy, more than anything.

“My love,” he whispers, delicately brushing dark waves away from Credence’s satisfied countenance, “you truly are stunning, do you know that?”

Credence only hums at first, following the warmth of Newt’s touch by pressing his face closer to his hand. His eyes do not open, but he ends up craving for a greater proximity, and soon his entire body is flush against Newt’s; face buried in the man’s shoulder and arms wrapped tight around him, though not constrictingly so. “You’re the stunning one,” he says quietly, “I’ve never met someone who’s kindness is so … intense. It’s in everything about you. Your eyes, your skin … your touch … the way you look at me, sometimes I just lose my breath.”

Newt is smiling, and though Credence can’t see it, he can tell. “I love you, Credence.”

Credence smiles against the crook of Newt’s shoulder, exhaling contentedly. “And I love you, Newt. Even if I’m going to have to take another shower …”

Sweet chuckles are pulled from Newt’s throat, as slowly he guides the younger man back toward the direction of the tub. “Let’s do it together. That way, we’ll save water.”  


**Author's Note:**

> please review, and follow me on [tumblr](http://healerdracos.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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